


The Innocent

by OKami_hu, oksammich



Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Loss of Innocence, M/M, Mind Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 03:56:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/806929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OKami_hu/pseuds/OKami_hu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/oksammich/pseuds/oksammich
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandy was willing to do everything to win Pitch over for the cause. In his adorable naivety however, he was not aware what 'everything' could include.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Innocent

They were dark and mean-looking, but pretty with their long, elegant legs and sleek bodies--much like Pitch Black himself.

He stood in the darkness and stretched his hand up, ever the persistent one, continuing to hope that one would give in so he could pet her beautiful muzzle. The Nightmares backed away from him, however, snorting and nickering threateningly each time he tried. They knew what he was capable of. Any other time, he would've been doing just that: splitting away the darkness, changing them, bringing them to the light.

But not today.

In this black place, Sanderson Mansnoozie looked smaller than normal, his tiny frame surrounded by shadows so dark that they merely lapped at his light rather than disappearing entirely. This was Pitch Black's domain, where he would do well to fear. With a tilt of his head, he searched for the telltale glimpse of deathly white skin or glittering eyes.

He'd never been afraid of this man, and on his mission, he was not going to start. Sandy turned where he stood, still looking, but holding up his forefinger and middle finger in a "v". He was here for peace.

Minutes kept ticking by, the dark lair looming above the Dream-bringer like a cold tomb. Save the sounds the Nightmares made, everything was silent, dark and dead. Sandy carefully advanced deeper into the building, shivering slightly. There was no way Pitch haven't noticed his arrival-

"May I ask to what do I owe the pleasure...?"

Sandy jumped a bit and turned. The Nightmare King towered above him, decked in all black and holding his staff. His golden eyes regarded the Guardian coldly.

"I would be lying if I said you were welcome here, so state your business." Pitch made an elegant gesture with his hand. Ever since the truce between them broke, he didn't bother to be nice with any of the Guardians. They were at war, simple as that.

It made him a little sad to know that their friendship was broken, but all of that was okay now. He was going to make it better!

Beaming, he held his hands in front of his round belly and turned to stand on his tiptoe. Above his head, the golden shapes of flowers and doves slid to life.

The Guardians were wary, but Sandy had utmost faith in his mission. The ages proved that Pitch could not be controlled, whether by war or truce. It was foolish to try to quash the other half of Sandy's being, the inhale to his exhale, the moon to his stars; quite frankly, he didn't want to lose a potential friend, either.

Next, he held up his hands, pointing to Pitch, then himself. With a tiny frown, he pushed his index fingers together; then, he clasped his palms tight.

He smiled brightly again. He wanted Pitch to become a Guardian too!

Pitch tilted his head to the side. "A peace offering? Hah!" He grinned. "Fancy you'd come with that at this time! A new age has dawned on the mortal world, and here we go, a truce with the Boogeyman again... Lovely idea."

He turned and began to pace. "Steam rose and new inventions were born, bringing dreams - it must be a thrilling time for you all. I know that Belief has risen. For all of you. Children of the civilized world put so much faith in you. The streets are brightly lit, as well as the future." He stopped abruptly.

"However... the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow. I'm quite sure you know that these are thrilling times for me as well. Children know me, fear me, believe me. And even the adults." He licked his lips. "It's like the Dark Ages all over again, covered in shimmering silk, black velvet and diamonds...! I barely have to do anything, they make me stronger without me lifting a finger...!" He sighed deeply, satisfied. "It's a wonderful time. I suppose you'd like me to leave it at that, before the balance tips all over again."

He rolled his eyes. Pitch certainly talked enough for the both of them. It wasn't all bad to watch, though! He actually smiled when he got onto a tangent like this, which was welcome respite from his usual frowns and sneers. He found Pitch to be quite beautiful, even when he was on his high horse, as it were.

Gently, he laid his hand on the staff and shook his head. Above were images of their many battles--so much pain and sadness! He was long tired of the fighting.

The images turned to one, of Pitch standing alone. Sandy shook his head once more, sadly. It wasn't fair. He extended his hands, with a tiny golden gift-wrapped box between them: he didn't have anything to offer but goodwill and a wish, one little hope that there could be a companionship between them.

“Well, well, well.” Pitch tapped at his chin with a long finger. “I see. Just like old times again, right? You and me, hopes and fears. The true driving forces of the universe.”

With a flick of his wrist, his staff crumbled and vanished. Pitch stepped closer and gracefully sank on half-knee, a wave of his hand blowing the little giftbox away.

“That is a rather interesting offer, but I need to think about it. You might want to do a little more than giving me promises - a true offering, something more... substantial. I hope you understand that my last encounter with a Guardian has left... a sour taste in my mouth.”

He stepped away, fully prepared for Pitch to lash out at him. Theirs wasn't exactly a pleasant relationship after all. But, with the Boogeyman down to eye level, he felt his concerns start to wane. From where he stood, he could get a better look at long, pale features; all people were beautiful to Sandy, including Pitch. (He wanted to touch his long nose, though!)

Lips curling tight, he crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his small foot while thinking as hard as he could. What sort of things would the Nightmare King enjoy? He wasn't as easy to please as North, who was happy with fresh cookies, or Bunnymund, who simply liked carrots!

It was sad that in all his time knowing Pitch Black, he'd never figured out what made him happy. His eyes flicked to the saffron graze staring back at him. He couldn't think of anything! Conceding, he shrugged and pointed to Pitch, a little question mark arching over his head. He'd do anything to make Pitch consider!

The dark man chuckled, the sound low and soft. He reached out, brushing a fingertip against Sandy's cheek. "There is one particular thing I enjoy very much..." he cooed, but then he shook his head sadly, drawing his hand back. "But no, you'd never do that for me. Nobody has done that for me for ages..."

Startled by the touch, he blinked rapidly though he did not pull away. His hands wrapped around Pitch's wrist, and carefully, he guided it back to rest on his cheek.

It must've been something he missed very much, to look so sad when asking for it. Sandy would give him what he wanted, if there was any way possible to do so!

With a comforting smile, flashing his small, white teeth, he gave a nod. One finger pointed to himself. He'd do it! He'd do anything!

The golden stars in the dark face lit up. "That is so kind of you!"

With a quick shrug of his shoulder, the upper part of his clothing turned to dust then spread out on the ground below them, forming a blanket over the stone floor. Pitch tugged on the neck of Sandy's suit lightly, making it crumble as well though rather slowly.

"It's sort of a game," the Nightmare King explained. "Shed that suit of yours. It's more fun like that."

Pitch was thin, but not horribly so. There were muscles under his skin like cords, making him look as if he'd been sculpted from marble. Amicably, Sandy tottered forward, dismissing his suit with a snap of his fingers.

His stomach jiggled as he settled at Pitch's side, the soft mounds of his chest laying just slightly against the top of his belly. His upper arms and thighs were rather plush, sloping down toward tiny hands and feet. Even completely naked, he didn't feel ashamed or exposed; in fact, his short manhood lay soft against his round sac, none of his genitals framed by even a bit of hair.

Cocking his head to the left, he poked the Nightmare King's side. Wasn't Pitch going to take off the rest of his clothes too?

"Soon." The long fingers began to skim over the golden-hued skin, their touch cool but gentle. They caressed and kneaded. slipping lower, from shoulders to belly, to hips and thighs.

"You're so soft and cute, little Sandman," Pitch murmured. "So innocent." His fingers ducked between the fleshy things for a quick, light caress, like a feather's touch.

For some reason, the words made him giggle nervously (but soundlessly). The touches were ticklish, wandering over him to make his skin prickle into goosebumps. The mermaids sometimes touched him like this, but they'd never gone between his legs before.

His pudgy toes curled, and he looked down as his little manhood was carefully investigated, the tip obscured by a soft sheath of golden foreskin. To help, he pushed one leg to the side. It was a strange game, but if it would make Pitch happy, he'd play with him.

Hands resting near his chest, he glanced at Pitch and gave a hesitant smile. Was this the right way to do it?

"Don't worry. It gets better." Those hand continued to work like magic, and suddenly, Sandy felt cool lips against his skin. Pitch kissed his shoulder, his back, the nape of his neck and eventually licked him. "Ooh. I've never expected you to taste so good, old friend." The voice was like dark chocolate.

He couldn't help it--he squirmed. Nose wrinkled and eyes squinted, he let his mouth hang open just a little. They were always fighting, always trying to hurt one another, and Sandy had experienced firsthand what violence Pitch was capable of.

As the odd sensations continued, his hands balled into fists and tucked themselves against the center of his chest. There was a tingling feeling between his legs, which was intensified by the kissing; it was almost like he needed to pee, but not quite. Shyly, he tried to shift his hips away. Was Pitch going to bite him, asked the appearance of sand-fangs gnashing above his head.

The gentleness felt okay, but it made his stomach ache a little too.

"Just if you want me to," the amused reply came from behind, and sharp teeth fixed on his shoulder. They didn't rip into the flesh though, merely scraped it gently, leaving thin pink lines on golden plush.

There was the barely audible sound of shadows dissolving and when Pitch moved next to Sandy, he could see all of his marble skin now. The Nightmare King couldn't have been any more different; he was dark, tall, slender and hard, all firm flesh and sharp angles. His manhood was different, too.

Heart throbbing in his chest, he gazed openly at all the beautiful, grey skin. It was flawless, body tight and compact with thin hips and legs that stretched out forever. They were taller than Sandy himself!

In response to both the bite and the new visual, his small cock stirred. Interested, the small head peeked out from between his thighs, a little moist droplet glistening from the tiny slit.

Smiling, he gestured to his head, where an appreciative heart shape formed; it morphed into a rose too, proof that he found Pitch to be very beautiful. He then gestured to the thick, dark-looking cock in front of his face, then held up his estimation of length between his hands. Sandy was impressed!

Pitch grinned. "It gets bigger if you touch it. I assume, you never tried?" He took hold of himself, lazily stroking his member until it began to swell slowly. He sighed deeply, licking his lips. "It feels very good."

Of course he'd never petted one before. He didn't know that was something that he could even do! Just like Pitch said, it got bigger. Sandy could smell something, too, like when it was a hot summer night and about to rain.

Sandy glanced down at his smaller member. Maybe he was supposed to do it, too? He popped one index finger into his mouth, and with his free hand, took up the chubby organ. It made his palm wet!

With his eyes on Pitch's movements, he began to do the same. It felt weird. Why did Pitch like this game so much?

"The trick is to not think about it too much, to not worry. If you let it go, it feels wonderful," Pitch instructed. He moved closer, leaning to Sandy's ear. "We have to play together. Otherwise it's not fun. Just relax... I promise it's going to be something you've never experienced before."

One of his hands covered the Sandman's, gently wrestling control from him and handling the little penis with skill.

"I know it feels weird first, even scary. But, you know you can trust me, don't you?"

No, he couldn't trust Pitch.

Swallowing hard, he tried to banish those thoughts from his mind--Pitch said he was going to try to be a Guardian, right? How could he ever prove himself if no one trusted him? Sandy was going to be the first, and he was going to show what a good person Pitch could be.

So he blinked back his frightened tears and nodded. For some reason, he was starting to feel like he was walking through mud. With a questioning expression, he reached out to rest his palm fully over Pitch's thick head, fingers curling to try and wrap around it. Was this okay?

“You can do that, yes.” The Nightmare King was smiling. He let Sandy explore and kept exploring as well, his cool touches finding sensitive places.

“I see how you look at me,” he murmured into Sandy’s ear, tip of his tongue flicking against the delicate shells. “You like me, don’t you. That is so cute. Let me give you back something. Enjoy the ride. It’ll blow your mind, promise.”

Of course he liked Pitch. Sandy’s cheeks darkened, turning his face to a near shade of orange, and with a sharp breath inward, he hesitated. He was beautiful, like silver stars strewn over a moonless sky; his voice was gorgeous, rolling waves over a black ocean, movements just as graceful. Sandy admired him, even if he stood for everything that the Dream-Weaver was against. He was strong, passionate, skilled...

He’d have to be crazy to not adore Pitch Black.

Shyly, he nodded and inched forward, gently kissing the upper part of his left thigh. His arms wrapped around Pitch’s buttocks, able to clasp together as he hugged the man close.

The dark chuckle was reminiscent of the distant roll of thunder. Long fingers combed through Sandy’s hair and Pitch sank to the floor, dragging the small Guardian with. He gently eased Sandy back and leaned above him, cool tongue sweeping over tiny nipples while the long fingers wrapped around the small penis. The Nightmare King was overwhelming, unstoppable, like a victorious general.

He wanted to cover his face, but he wanted to look, too. Pitch's tongue was long, slick and warm, and touched spots that Sandy never realized to be sensitive. His tiny hands rested on fat cheeks, as he fought between shoving his legs together and spreading them wide.

He needed to relax. Pitch said so. Sandy had a suspicion that if he didn't do well, their shaky truce would be broken. He reached down, his tiny fingers slipping through Pitch's hair and trying to touch his cheeks. His skin was soft, despite how sharp and edged everything else about him was. His cock swelled to its full height in Pitch's hand, barely more than a mouthful for an adult, but to Sandy, just the touch of a hand was like paradise.

"I see you're enjoying yourself, little one," Pitch cooed. "I told you you're going to like this. Let's have even more fun, shall we?" Without waiting for a reply, Pitch turned Sandy over, on his chubby belly and dragged his tongue down along the spine. "You taste sweet. So sweet and pure." He aligned their hips and rubbed his long member against Sandy's. "Nnh, you feel so nice against me... I missed this."

He was able to control shadows and darkness, making them solid to serve as an armor... but he knew other tricks as well. Thick, dark drops of liquid began to bead on his fingers as he condensed his element into another state of matter. He smeared it between Sandy's fleshy buttocks.

Hands tucked under his chest, he stuck his bottom up and out so Pitch could do what he wanted. He didn't even know this place would feel good, but when the long fingers rubbed him, they banished the queasy, uncertain feeling that chilled the pit of his stomach. It was weird, yet Sandy liked it. He reached down between his legs to grab Pitch's long prick, and with a little shifting, he was able to pin it against his fat tummy and leaking cock. Then, he rocked himself back and forth over it.

He wrapped Pitch up, hiding him between hands, belly, and thighs, and did his best to make him feel good. Some part of him was worried, because Pitch's dark essence inside felt dirty, but he banished the thought. He trusted Pitch.

Sandy glanced over his shoulder, eyes glazed, and after wiggling his bottom into the long, cool hand, he nodded. He liked this, too.

The Nightmare King sighed with deep satisfaction. "You don't even have an idea how happy you make me."

The dark blanket underneath them came alive. It clutched Sandy's wrists and ankles like some thick goo, effectively immobilizing him. Pitch gave his own penis a few lazy tugs, then aimed it at Sandy's entrance and pushed in with one smooth, firm thrust.

Mouth dropping open, he buried his face in the darkness. That big thing sheathed inside him like it was meant to go there, but at the same time, he felt like he was being split in half. It hurt a little--Sandy didn't think it was on purpose, though. It was like trying to button a pair of pants that were a bit too small or biting into a piece of cake without cutting it first. It was just... big.

His body shuddered around him. Sandy tried to move his hands to get better leverage, but when he found himself pinned down, his lazy satisfaction turned to panic. He tightened considerably, wriggling below Pitch in a vain attempt to get away.

Above his head, dozens of hands showed themselves palms-up, a silent command to stop. It was too big! He couldn't move like this!

"Just give it a little time!" Pitch laughed. "Relax. You want to make me feel good, don't you? Well, This feels just wonderful for me." He slipped a hand underneath Sandy, to grab his small member. "I'm quite sure you do like this... don't worry."

He pulled himself out halfway then slipped back, the liquid darkness serving as a perfect lubricant. He didn't even try to bite back his lusty moan.

His lips trembled, but he nodded. He had to make Pitch feel good. That was the only way he could stop their fighting and hopefully gain a new ally. He wanted to be his friend!

After a breath, he made himself relax. His insides served him well, opening up so the big organ could make itself fit with slow thrusts that left him breathless. Of course, the hand on his penis felt really nice too. Sandy pushed his hips into it.

When he did so, it angled the hefty thing inside of him in such a way that he saw stars. Every muscle rippled, fingers and toes curled, and the Sandman shivered in surprise. The hands above him faded into sloppy hearts, his bright eyes fluttering shut as he just accepted this strange happening.

"Yes, that's it." The grin was there in Pitch's voice. "See how much you enjoy it? You little fiend. I'm balls deep into you and you like it." He thrust forward a little firmer. "The little Sandman, so honest, so trusting. So eager to please others." He grunted from pleasure as the golden body gripped him tight. "It's been ages I last had a good fuck...!"

He kept thrusting and tugging on Sandy's flesh. "You have no idea how lovely you look... spread wide for your arch-enemy."

Rocking underneath him, he felt embarrassment crawling up his stomach, as if spurred on by the sharp thrusts that felt like they were reshaping his insides. He enjoyed himself until the words seeped in. He didn't know what a 'fuck' was. It sounded awful. They carried malice, even with the smile around them, and they made his ears sting, like this was something bad.

Still, his little cock dripped its sugary milk into Pitch's hand. The movements kept hitting something that made him feel good, despite how quickly he'd started questioning just what he was doing.

If he made Pitch feel good, Pitch would be nice.

With his eyes squeezed shut, he began backing himself into the Nightmare King, taking him in to the hilt with his ass and thighs jiggling in effort. His hands gripped the shadows tight and he made his sand tell its first lies: he enjoyed doing this for Pitch and he didn't want him to stop.

Though Pitch probably didn't intend to, anyway. He kept on thrusting deep in and fondling Sandy the same time, whispering about how good this felt, how much he missed it and how glad he was to see that Sandy enjoyed it, too. His voice grew deeper which sounded nice, but it was also menacing and his tone had an underlying malice.

His movements sped up eventually and he sounded more breathless, moans and gasps interrupting his speech. His hand never rested though.

His cock trembled in Pitch's hand. For the first time in his long life, Sandy was ashamed of himself. He didn't want it to do that, because the thrusts were so deep they made his stomach hurt and the touches were so intrusive that he felt like throwing up. He didn't understand why, but he was sure it had something to do with the big thing inside of him and those words that said nice things while sounding horrible.

Sandy buried his face in his arms and drew in a sob. He didn't cry very much, yet he wanted to now, because he was starting to feel so hot between his thighs. His fat testicles tightened and pressed against his body; he was startled by a sudden rush of pleasure that forced everything else out, as sweet, thick liquid shot between Pitch's fingers.

There was a momentary pause and the offending organ withdrew, leaving Sandy panting and blissfully empty. The darkness released him and he was rolled on his back, only to face Pitch's smile, which was as sweet as poisoned honey. "Aww, look how hard you came...! He murmured, slowly smearing the pearly liquid over the Sandman's skin. "Who would've thought... You really managed to make me feel better about all this situation, and you enjoyed yourself so much! Thank you for being such an obedient little whore for me."

He kneeled over Sandy; his dark, swollen member practically in the tear-stained face. "But it's not over yet. Now it's my turn." He began to tug on his penis firmly, face drawn into a sneer, a mix of hatred and pleasure. It didn't' take long until his seed spurted forth, staining Sandy's cheeks and chin. Pitch licked his lips, panting lightly. "Now my day is truly made."

As good as it all had felt for a few seconds, he wanted to block even the good parts so he could avoid feeling like he did. The semen in his face made him flinch--it was hot, unexpected, and as it gathered in clumps on his cheeks, it felt dirtier than mud.

Stickiness made his thighs glisten, as his little cock softened with near relief. He put on a watery smile, and though it tore at his heat, he made his sand lie again. It showed images of thanks, because it felt so good.

Drawing his legs together, he scooted onto his sore rump and rested his hands in his lap. Pitch seemed to take great joy in his "stuff" cooling on Sandy's skin, so he left it where it was.

A curious gaze flicked up, amber eyes shining beneath unshed tears. Pitch was going to join them now, right?

The dark blanket vanished underneath him, returning to its master, to cover up the tall form. Pitch was grinning again and he didn't hide the malice this time. "For being as ancient as some stars, you sure don't go out often enough," he mocked.

"Fear remains fear, just as well as dreams remain dreams. Did you really think you can turn me to deal out candy and dimes instead of nightmares? You pathetic little fool. I LIKE being the Nightmare King, this is my job, and I'm bloody good at it! So go back to your sparkly-eyed friends and tell them to work harder if they want to keep their precious balance, because Pitch Black has a piece of this brave new world, and he won't let you wrench it from him again!" The lasts words were shouted; then Pitch wrapped his cloak around himself and disappeared into the darkness, leaving Sandy alone in the cold chamber, with only several Nightmares staring at him intently.

His heart jumped up into his throat, where it ached just as much as his stomach and his bottom. He didn't know what to think as his plan backfired, leaving him naked, sticky, disgusting in the floor. And all around him, the shadows reflected back his image: he could see what Pitch had done. Sandy's glow was weakened, the look of horror on his own face was one he'd never forget.. the white lingering on his skin was not pretty like snow.

He reached out for his sands to cover him up so he wouldn't have to see it anymore. It was slow coming, dragging sluggishly along the ground to wrap around his legs. Frantic tears rolled down his cheeks. He stood to try to make the clothing form faster, as silent sobs wrenched his chest, but he couldn't.

So he stumbled forward on fat, short legs (dirty legs) and for the first time in his existence, covered his chest and stomach (filthy) with his arms so the Nightmares wouldn't see.

For the first time in his existence, he didn't smile when the sun greeted him. He ducked his head and just moved. He would leave this day behind him. He would never think of it again.

But even for the Sandman, there were some dreams he'd never be able to escape.


End file.
